Broken
by glenien
Summary: It's not easy to find him- but Arthur is in a quest. A royal quest, that is.


Later, Arthur would not be able to remember half of the things spouted out of his mouth because most of the time he was blinded with fury- and so busy yelling at Merlin at the top of his lungs.

But he knows the exact moment when his words break him.

"I don't want to see your face- _ever again_. If you ever come back, if you even _consider_ coming back- I will burn Gaius _and your mother_ at stake. Leave Merlin and never come back."

"You cannot do this!"

"You don't even know _half of things_ he has done for you!"

"If you do this, Arthur- then I will leave with him."

It has been five months and still nobody knows where Morgana is.

He sighs. The look of the only familiar face is too painful- considering it's not even facing him.

"Guinevere," he says softly, "Are you still not talking to me?"

"I had to do this," He whispers, insistant, "I had to."

Gwen looks at him, desperation leaking out of her overly bright eyes, "Why, Arthur?" she begs, "Why did you? You can trust me, please, just tell me why."

Words tangle in his throat. It's not his secret to tell.

They say there is a wise old man who helps people in need and cures diseases.

It's not easy to find him- but Arthur is in a quest. A royal quest, that is.

After a search of dozen of villages, one further than the other, he finally finds him. The man is exactly how he is described, his back bent doubled and his hands wrinkled, shaking with their gentleness. The hood conceals everything but the long, mangy white beard in his face.

He follows him.

The further they leave the village behind them, lighter the steps become, too quick for a man that old. The stuff he has been leaning on becomes nothing more than a playful stick.

In a clearing of the forest, he finally sits, unpacking the pack of food, borrowed from the hands of grateful villagers.

As he glows, the hood falls back, the grayed hair grows shorter- darker- thicker- and Arthur will recognize the set of bony shoulders on this figure in anywhere.

His throat is hoarse as he manages to whisper, "Merlin?"

The body freezes. A pair of bright blue eyes turn to find him- as he finds a face much troubled than the one who left.

He supports a small beard now. And a scar which crosses half of his face. He looks impossibly thinner- but somehow rougher- tougher.

Merlin does not get up to greet him. He simply bows his head in a recognising gesture and says, "My lord."

Arthur, aghast, looks at him. Looks, but does not want to see. He doesn't want to believe what he had caused. "You look-" he says but Arthur has no words how Merlin looks. His heart aches.

Merlin misunderstands his hesitation, "They accept guidance better- when I look older and wiser than I am." he responds quietly.

A retort automatically comes to his mouth and Arthur bites it back. It's not his place, no longer.

"How's Gwen?" asks Merlin and Arthur needs a second to adjust to the indifference in his tone.

"She's-" he starts and stops. Because she is not fine, Guinevere's not talking to anyone since Morgana has left.

He squeezes his eyes shut and whispers, "I screwed this up, didn't I?"

"I saw Morgana-" responds Merlin, unfazed. His face doesn't need any further inquiry. They both know that she is a lost case since the Druids and Mordred.

The silence grows more uncomfortable. "What are you doing in here, Arthur?" asks Merlin suddenly tired.

"I-" he hesitates, "apparently came for your help," Arthur sighs. "I am in need of a cure. There is a disease at Camelot making people sick."

"I cannot heal," says Merlin quietly, "I can ease pain and fix broken bones but I cannot heal. Isn't Gaius no longer the court physician?"

"He says there is nothing he can do." Arthur swallows, "He doesn't say it- but I know he thinks it's a curse."

Merlin does not respond.

"Merlin," Arthur whispers, daring to believe, to hope the impossible, "Would you come with me?"

Merlin gives him a long, indescribable look, than turns to his meal. "No."

Arthur does not leave. He has a quest- and he found it- now he cannot leave it alone.

He follows Merlin around- with in a distance. The warlock visits the villages, offering his help in exchange of shelter or food. He always wears his old man glamour- though once or twice, Arthur sees him with his own face- generally in the darkest of nights when he hits the empty inns.

His heart aches when he sees the promising touches of some of the serving girls. Merlin never leaves with them- but it doesn't mean he didn't nor wouldn't- Arthur is not a fool- he knows that Merlin is aware of his presence. Maybe that's why he seems to develop a non-healthy affection to the ale. Arthur knows that Merlin has- had no head for the ale.

It's been almost a month and they are still traveling. It has been at least a week since Arthur saw any other human being- they are deep into the thick forest and Merlin does not stop or spare a look at him.

Yet he still follows him around feeling like a ghost- talking most of the time- telling about his time in Camelot- his father's rein- how Morgana left- how Gwen is never talking to anyone- how Gaius is miserable all the time, missing Merlin- he fills the blanks- but the apology he intends never comes to his lips. He doesn't dare to offer it when Merlin isn't even recognising his presence as a human being.

He sighs, wondering how long they are going to keep this up and looks around him to spot the sight of the dark figure ahead- and suddenly he can't. Panic seizing his throat, he starts scanning the forest ground- where was Merlin? He was just right there- it is impossible for him to disappear this quick- except Merlin is magic and the most powerful sorcerer that Arthur has ever known- and he knows that he lost him, not for now but forever.

Arthur chokes a half-cry of agony and disbelief- why now? Why like this? The forest is suddenly a dark, breathing thing around him- the back of his hair and his neck are tingling. His breath is coming out short. Something's not right.

He cries out loud with pain when the attack came from his left- he doesn't even time to counter it. The ugly creature is clearly magical- and clearly hungry- he pushes out of its way but he knows he is too late- his sword is still lying under it.

In the corner of his eye, he sees Merlin. Merlin is angry- he is really, really angry as his eyes watch Arthur. Their decision is unclear.

Arthur believes he certainly will die in here.

The creature gives out a high-pitched screech at the top of him and bursts in fire. Merlin doesn't even move a muscle, except a tilt of his head.

Lying on the cold forest floor, Arthur is breathless.

They stare at eachother for moments. And then Merlin turns his back.

Arthur makes a dash and yells, "Merlin- _Merlin stop!_"

Arthur does not know how long he begs after him- he apologizes for what he has done- for what he didn't deserve- and he thanks to him- for saving his life- for being his friend- for everything he has ever been.

But he knows the exact moment when his words break him. "Please, Merlin- _just please._"

Merlin stops, turns around and walks down to him- Arthur is sure Merlin is going to hit him- he braces himself for it.

But the hit never comes.

"You-" Merlin's voice is quiet but it holds so much roar- "You have any idea- how much I wanted to- but I didn't- I _just didn't_ and you, utter, fucking arrogant arse-"

And then Arthur kisses him.

Because this is how his destiny is. Screwed up- broken- but legendary.


End file.
